Starlight Green
by Candy3314
Summary: This is a story in which Tom and Harry grow up together, soon find ties to one another despite their differences, and become the love they never had in each other. But as the years grow older, their minds mature, and their goals come into play, will their relationship become broken due to Tom's dark plans for the future? Will Harry set him right? Or perhaps Tom will sway Harry?
1. The End and Beginning

**I have lost inspiration for most of my stories, and this has been the only thing rolling in my head for many months now so I'm finally pulling it out into typing. Hope you enjoy! **

_**October 31, 1981 **_

The flickers of light hummed and crackled, radiating from the ashes and timber and on to the dim, almost silent room floors. The house was dark, almost black, with the fire as the only light. A small, up-lifting gurgle rung through the quiet room, and along with it a purring chuckle as sat curled and bundled a couple with their beloved baby boy.

The small infant let out more cute gurgles at the woman petting his face, reaching from his quilted bundle with his chubby hands to try and play with the woman's slender fingers and polished nails as spit bubbles spurred on his red, plumped lips. A tuff of black stuffed out from the baby's head and his heart shaped face lifted out also as the little thing struggled to reach out to his mama, letting out precious, high-pitched chortles. The child's bright, green eyes shined with the baby's happiness.

The woman's red-stained lips curled as she responded to her son's giggles with her purring and gibberish noises, egging the child onto speaking more as the boy seemed fairly amused by his mother's reaction. Vibrant red hair that matched to the light of the room laid perfectly layered upon her fairly portioned chest as the strands stayed a flawless straight before curling neatly at the tips while her eyes held a remarkable green. Though faded with age, they were still beautiful as the corners of her eyes crinkled in joy.

Her legs were cuddled around her husband's on their place snuggled into the couch, the man only smirking at his wife and son in pride and amusement as he haled out with the tingle of a slightly alcoholic drink on his breath. The man's eyes were a crispy copper brown and his hair as dark as his son's, his body tall and lanky as he kept a comforting arm around his wife, starring down at his baby boy with the same care as his wife.

The night had been a long, tiring one. The Marauders had had a get together along with many other of their old school friends, and it had been a joyous night as always pulled by the four trouble makers.

Simple, light adult beverages were passed around as conversations span out in the room and laughs were passed, a few harmless pranks dotting out every once a hour, while Harry made his occasional appearance much to the dismay of Lily's as she had put the boy to sleep many times that night in order for the tike's sleeping pattern to not go out of whack, but that simply did not pass for the boy's godfather, Sirius, who continued to grab the boy from his crib and announce the boy's presence to all as he held Harry over his head like an air plane, said boy wailing in laughter all the while.

The man meant well, and loved his godson more then anything, but the redhead gave the man a firm slap on the back of the neck, grabbed her cherished son back, and scurried back to put the raven to sleep despite knowing that Sirius would in all likely hood soon wander back to gabble the baby back, running off around the household with his godson until the fiery mistress found him once again and the process would continue.

Yes, it was a happy night of events and laughs, but that soon left the couple tired as they wished their friends off, settling down from the party and indulging in a quiet, peaceful mood as they sat relaxed, messing with their beloved son with smiles upon their worn faces.

Harry, despite Lily's efforts, was wide awake and as cheery as ever, so the two decided on entertaining the young chap till he finally quieted down, slumbering off to sleep.

It was times such as these that the Potter family was at its happiest as safety and their son as heathy as a ripe apple for the picking was their only conditions, and to see that smile over the newborn's chubby little cheeks was the high light of their days, and for most other's also.

Harry really was a cherished member of the Order and various friends of the Potter's, and of course, the famous Marauders that took the boy in as their one and only prided cub, littered with the love and companionship to become the descent and take-over of their organization of pranks and the sort.

But unfortunately, not every particular Marauder was up with those goals.

You see, the Potters were not ones to fear nothing for no reason. There was a reason safety was one of their top priorities in their home. It had been passed by a member from the Order, Severus Snape, that the lawful Deatheaters were pondering over attacks on the new family due to unknown reasons as for now, sending both Lily and James into an overdrive of protection.

But Dumbledore, the leader of the group, was able to ease them with the conformation of setting a powerful barrier upon their house that one could only be allowed through if by the acceptance of Lily and James or the command of what they called a Secret Keeper who was given the only knowledge as to how the shield could be repealed.

This Secret Keeper spot was known to all to be Sirius Black's, a trusted friend and godfather to Harry, but in secret the Potters devised a plan, giving the information to Peter, another trusted friend and Marauder, in order to have Black as a decoy. It was beyond James and Lily to use their friend as a decoy of course, but Sirius had been very persistent on the protection on his cub and commanded it be done.

But what was not planned was Peter Pettigrew's betrayal.

The rat had unknowingly to others joined the Deatheaters in their ruthless quests. The man's motivations were stirred, a sheer upbringing of anger towards his friends with his lack of populace, talents, and confidence and how his friend's obliviousness to it all just builded up his frustrations until he let out a life of revenge against those higher then him. A judgment made with mere jealousy, you could say.

And it was because of that selfish act that brought the poor Potter's peaceful night of a warm October night to its end.

_RING...RING...RING..._

And in those moments,

"_The-The barriers- James?!"_

in the last kisses,

"_Lily, take Harry and go! It's them! Go! Run! I'll hold them off!"_

the last laughs,

"_James, NO!"_

the last hugs,

"_Where's the port key, where's the port key, where's the port key... WHERE IS IT GOD DAMMIT?!... Oh my God... Harry... Harry, mama loves you... M-Mommy loves you, Harry. Be strong... Be strong, Sweetie..."_

the last wishes to their son,

"_Where is he you stupid little girl?!"_

"_Yeah step away from the brat, mud-blood!"_

their last times of holding each other to one another,

"_No! Take me! Please, take me instead! Not Harry... Anyone but Harry, please...Take me-Kill me! Just not Harry, please! Take me instead- AHHH!"_

and their last times of being together_, _it only took two words to speak as lights clashed and bodies dropped, a woman's fear and sadness panted on the walls of a nursery forever.

"_Finish him off."_

It was only with two words that they were separated from each other for an eternity...

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

…and our story would begin.

**I know my perception on Lily and James's hide out and the whole Fidelius Charm and Secret Keeper thing is not as it is in the books, and that is because I made up my own protection for the Potters because I just wanted to keep it simple for me to write, if that's alright. And yes, there are still Deatheaters even though Tom has not arose yet, and they targeted James and Lily for reasons you will understand later :) Thank you for reading and please review and ask questions if you're confused by any means! **


	2. A Not So Scary Attic Monster

**Hello, and thank you for continuing on reading this story, or perhaps you're just skimming through, whatever it is that happens you upon this page- I welcome you (unless, of course, you're here to be a bitch to me)! Enjoy the read.**

_**September 21, 1987**_

It had grown weary since that dreary night of cold on the Potter's death, and maybe it was even a colder eve on this particular sun down. The sidewalks, all grey and hard, were patted with rain drops as well as the rest of the shadowy scenery as the tree's branches weighed down from the pours of rain.

A car of black ran along a long trail of gate as it sped through the sad, colorless town, its head lights searing through the darkness of the streets, spotting out the rain drops flying past it and highlighting them in the headlight's yellow shine.

Finally the old sedan halted to a stop, the car's engine soon vibrating to its last beat as the headlights switched off, a rough scuff breaking the noises of the nattering rain as the driver's door opened, the body of a woman in a trench coat climbing from the confines of the car before the woman gestured with her gloved hands to a passenger in the car to follow her. She then slammed the door shut and crossed her arms, shaking slightly from the cold as she drummed her fingers on her arm. Soon a hefty sigh left her lips, a cloud of fog coating her breath as she walked calmly to the other side of the car, her high heels clacking.

"You've got to come out, Sweetheart," the woman spoke softly to the tiny passenger in the car when she clicked the door open.

The child sitting numbly there only seemed to shiver as the boy shook his head with his mob of black hair.

The lady let out another sigh, shaking her head as her grip went tighter on the door's handle. "C'mon, child. I'm freezing here."

Hesitantly, the small body of the boy scooted out from the large car seat in comparison to him and plopped down to the tar street, creating a small splash in the wet puddles littering the area. The boy was shaking furiously from either the cold or the mixed feelings, she didn't know, but in either case sadness still stirred in her heart.

"Thank you, Sweetie," she spoke softly, her voice like honey in the blistering cold as she wrapped a nice worn navy blue blanket around the boy's small frame as a sad yet satisfied smile graced her pink lips.

The two figures, one tall and one short, walked up the sidewalk and through a large, patterned gate, the fence emulating a creaky sound as the woman pushed it open for her and the child with her. They walked up the stony path that had mock gardens to seemingly decorate the entrance but all simply failed with the dieing plants and brown grass and the random mud patches. The large household looked of one from horror stories kids would talk of in their minds. The roof and lining of windows was all a depressing grey as the rest was a chipping wooden white. Not a light was seen present in the cold confines of the household and not a single sense of life was given from it.

It was defiantly dreary, and less than welcoming.

Finally the woman and boy made it to the front door and the woman made no hesitation to knock hard on the rusty double door, a signifying bang sounding out into the bitterness of the night as the woman quickly retreated her hands after and rubbed them along her arms.

It was a moment later that the doors finally opened, and in fear the child with the woman took a step back, his lip curling up as he whimpered.

What was reveled from behind closed doors was an old woman with sawn white hair pulled back into a bun, her wrinkly face evident in the candle light she was holding as her lace night gown was also reveled, showing she had previously.

"Yes...?" the old woman croaked through her raspy, sleep deprived voice, the lady's moon-like eyes looking down to the child, making the boy back up even further before she starred up to the towering woman.

"Forgive us for the lateness, but weren't you informed of Harry's arrival?" the woman asked in a voice much more professionalized then her tone when handling with the boy.

The old woman's gaze peered back down to Harry, her face not showing a flicker of emotion before she frowned grimly and pushed the door back out wider, letting go of the thick wood with her frail hand. "Come in..." she sulked, her image disappearing into the darkness of the house.

"Thank you, ma'am," the woman spoke gratefully, happy to step out of the rain as she made her way into the dusty chambers of the house, gesturing to Harry to follower her. The green eyed boy hesitated, but soon vouched to follow the two females.

The house was as dreary as the front with powdery white floorboards. The lobby of sort was an open, large, yet empty space with two staircases leading to the top that Harry couldn't see quite clearly for it was dark, but he could faintly see the outline of many doors patterned together straight down the hall. In the other rooms attached to the lobby, there was one to the left, one to the right, and they were both as considerably large as the entrance room, but the right had more doors on its side and the left had more furniture and what most would speculate as a play room with its old, creepy toys withering on the weakly carpeted floor and dully colored or comforted couch.

"Just fill out some things here," the old woman told the tall woman, handing over a clipboard that she took, filling out with the scratchings of a pencil sounding through the room in the silence. The old woman returned her gaze back to Harry again, making the boy shiver but the lady soon looked away and back to the woman who had handed the clipboard back and began going over it.

The old woman's face seemed to be permanently blank as she looked back up to the towering woman before her. "You did not fill in the boy's last name...?"

The woman shook her head, a sad smile catching her lips once again. "No, he does not have one. His aunt did not nor uncle confess to the boy's last, and the boy doesn't even know either. We looked through all the family's files, including the ones of the passed grandmother and grandfather, but most information on the aunt's sister has been burned. We'll inform you when we get word," she confirmed.

The old woman did not seemed too fazed by this, her eyes merely got dimmer as she spoke grudgingly, "Very well." She turned to Harry. "Put on these-" She handed him a grey shirt and grey shorts. "-and follow me to your rooms." Her eyes cast to the woman standing silently, looking to Harry with pitiful brown eyes. "Your presence is no longer needed."

The woman seemed dazed for a moment, but soon shook out of it and looked back to the old woman, smiling kindly. "Thank you, ma'am," she said, exiting to the door before she stopped, turning over her shoulder to cast one last look at the small boy standing stock still in the weary orphanage. "Good luck, Harry."

And with a booming of the closing door, Harry's bones seemed to freeze up and his stomach twist. The old woman scared him deeply. She reminded him of a witch from the books he would steal from his whale of a cousin. What if she ate him?

Slowly, he peeked over to the feeble female only to see that her gaze was directly on him and the boy quickly snapped away from her gaze to stare at his shoes, the grey clothes held awkwardly in his arms as it went still and Harry feared the woman had stopped working all in all.

But atlas the woman spoke, creeping Harry out even deeper into the corner of his mind. "You have pretty eyes, child," she spoke in that old lady voice, sending a spike of goosebumps over the boy's arms that he itched at some.

Then, without a word, the woman began to walk off and Harry stumbled in his shock, picking up his pace to follow the elder to his new residents... or was she going to take him to be hurt? Somewhere bad?

Fear flood up the boy's senses then as his knobby knees almost caved.

He didn't want it...

Tears began to prickle and burn his puffy red eyes like they did so many more times this night. He reached up his currently soaking sweater's sleeve to his face to wipe at his eyes, burning his cheek with the rubbing, irritating his pale skin. The raven sniffled quietly from his reddened nose.

They passed a long hall of nothing but doors, lining one after the other in a sort of hotel fashion, but much less lighted or comforting as one, as this one had with it the whining floorboards and shadowed canvases.

Harry took in another gulp, shredding his finger nails into the clothing he was holding that was already spotting with wet spots from his soaking figure dripping over it.

The people in suits said he was going to go somewhere where children like him go. Were they punished also...? Harry winced, biting his torn lip. They had said he was going to sleep in a bed now- with others, but it didn't appear that he was going into any of the rooms. Where was she taking him?

"Up there, child," the woman spoke gravely, stopping and pointing with her hand that was free from holding the candle light at a set of spiral, wooden stairs. "Up there is your room. Dress, and sleep."

And with that she was already walking creepily back down the corridor, the light of the candle following her movements, leaving Harry with the screeching staircase and lightening dashing through the faults in the walls.

Harry looked up the stairs, to only see a pit of darkness and whimper. What was up there? It was all a mystery. Was it a fierce monster with sharp claws? Tentacles that'd pull him into the darkness with them? He didn't want to go up there- where the darkness was. But where would he go? He couldn't find that old woman again. She might become angry and hurt him.

The boy gulped again, sniffling behind his hands that he had put up to his face along with his new clothes that were wound tightly to his chest. His hesitant feet crawled onto the first step, a signification squeak sounding out causing Harry to squeal in his startled state as he quickly sprinted up the stairs, going round and round in circles up, his eyes closed tight against the thundering skies and brief flashes of light. He ran and ran until finally he could not take a step further.

The raven stopped and stood clutching the clothing to his chest which was heaving up and down with each of his ragged breaths. He calmed his adrenaline rush and slowly peeked his eyes open to see himself in a small room- no monster in sight.

Well, the room was not exactly what Harry would consider a room. With the high, spiked ceiling and dusty rafts supporting it it felt more like the final top of a tower. An attic of some sort that was converted into a living space, he guessed. There was one large window near the front of the tower, giving a clear view of the rain pouring, the dead gardens, and street outside. Then further up in the rafters was another he couldn't quite see, but knew he could climb up to peer out of if he wanted to.

Harry liked windows. They were ways of looking out into things without being hurt. His cupboard did not have windows (rarely any did).

He then looked back down to his current place on the floor and noticed that the room was not colored white like the rest of the orphanage and was instead left at its construction wood, unpainted and was one that most would wince at for the fear of splinters on the rough, chippy texture.

The room was completely empty besides the metal bunk bed in the corner, where laid two very aged, dirty mattresses that looked less than comfortable with a small pull out drawer under the bed on the bottom.

Harry looked carefully to the top bunk and noticed a visual hump laid in the middle of the mattress with baby blue sheets, yet no sound came from the one slumbering there.

A fear still sparked in the pit of his chest, Harry maneuvered over to the bunk and slipped off his soaking clothes from his body that fell all too easily due to its enormous size. He was always a tiny little thing, having been starved most of his years, and his body was as fragile as a butterfly's wings with its many marks of the abused and hardship.

He shivered at the cold, a soft gasp lifting off his raw red lips as he quickly bit down out of habit, reaching down quickly with his quaking hands to pull on his new, scratchy clothing that his body welcomed wholly in compare to his previous rags.

Harry then slipped into bed, swopping up the frail sheets on the mattress that were nearly as thin as thread to wrap around his sore body in an effortless plea to rid himself of that cold, pitiless feeling hanging on him for most of his life.

Though only seven, Harry had experienced some horror most didn't face in a lifetime. But overall this was a change that left Harry confused and hurt- empty and lonely. He felt as though he were a stray left on the streets or a child given a highschooler's exam and told to ace it.

To be left in such a scary home, with such a scary woman, and being commanded to do things he wasn't completely sure of was confusing, and for his whole life to be changed so dramatically was just too much for him to handle. At least at his Aunt's and Uncle's he knew what was going on and what was to happen- here, he was left guessing and helplessly looking for answers.

One moment he was in his cupboard, and the next he was being pulled out, sent with strange people, and given a new home and surroundings.

It was a life change- a life change no seven year old should have to take. It was for the better, of course, but still rushed.

With the questions steaming his mind, the clashes and loud beatings of the wind against the glass of his window, Harry pulled in on himself, his lip beginning to tremble. The raven's fists squeezed tight and so did his eyes. His breathing grew shakier and shakier to the point where he couldn't even breath, his whole body stuffing up before he finally let out a large sob and his boundaries shook before collapsing.

He laid there, a slobbery mess of snot and tears with his eyes sewed shut and his hands swiping at his leaking, burning face. His shoulders shook and his heart sank, aching. It was soon then that he began pronouncing gibberish, almost wailing in his distress.

"Stop crying," a sudden voice spooked out from the darkness, Harry jumping at the hiss underlining the command as he quickly swapped at his face to hide the embarrassing sight.

"Wh-What..?" Harry managed between breaths, his voice wet with signs of his private moment.

"Stop crying, _baby_. You woke me up. Quite fussing like a child- you're getting your sheets wet," the voice threatened once again.

Harry finally took down his sheets from his face, his facial features feeling nice against the cool air that swept to his burning cheeks as he looked to the face that he could only compare to as a crow's.

The owner to the sickly sweet voice was a boy a bit around his age, though probably older. He had nice, tidy rich brown hair and a pale, flawless long face with two beady, piercing blue eyes that stunned him in the darkness and examined him like a vulture over a corpse. But despite what Harry'd like to say, the boy was beautiful, and very elegant and polite looking. Like a male of royalty or something.

It took a moment for Harry to completely process the boy's words and soon he felt his face grow darker again. "I wasn't crying."

The blue eyes narrowed, making Harry back up a little at the intensity of the gaze. "Yes you were. You woke me up with your cries, and your face is smeared with tear stains."

It went silent and Harry looked away from the look fixated on him, focusing on steadying his breaths in order to avoid the awkward silence between the two. After a moment or two Harry still felt that unsettling gaze upon the top of his head as his breathing began relaxing.

"You're in my room."

Harry looked up, his stomach churning in nervousness. "What..?"

The boy only seemed tired of Harry's cluelessness and a perfect brown brow rose on his flawless face. "You are in my room," he spoke clearly, leaning forward to make direct eye contact with Harry.

A small realization crept up to Harry in a minute's time. "The old woman told me to come here, get dressed, and sleep."

The boy in front of him nodded his head. "Oh... I am Tom."

"I'm Harry."

It went awkwardly silent again, or at least for Harry- Tom didn't seem at all fazed by it.

"Your eyes are green..."

"Wha..? Yeah," Harry stuttered, rubbing at said eyes. The raven had never really paid much attention to little things such as his eye color, but now that he thought of it, they were green.

"I don't like them," Tom spoke bluntly, his own blue orbs shimmering in a hateful way that sent goosebumps up Harry's spine and flimsy arms.

Harry didn't like this Tom guy. He was too formal and rude and blunt on everything- insulting him and sounding so smug about himself and so sure in every word coming from his plastic, glossy mouth.

"Why?" Harry asked bravely, sending his own glare to the brunet who didn't seem at all impressed at Harry's new found courage.

"They're ugly," Tom said with his emotionless voice, his face not flinching in the bit.

"N-No they're not!" Harry almost shouted, tears brimming at his eyes again.

Tom's eyes narrowed, his face breaking into a grim one. "Not again with that infernal crying."

"I'm not crying!" Harry responded back, his lips going pouty as he fought back the tears.

Tom smirked in amusement, reaching out a dainty hand to ruffle Harry's knotty black hair. "You are such a child..." Tom whispered, and before Harry knew it, the crow like eyes were off his presence and the boy was gone, supposedly up in his own bunk.

Harry was confused, and a little unnerved by the encounter. He didn't particular like it, but for some reason he didn't exactly hate it, either.

Waiting silently, Harry's exhaustion finally caught up to him as his puffy eyes began to wilt from all the crying, his body sliding down back under the sheets as he curled up close, thinking about the one called Tom, and how sufficiently odd he was.

**Ah, back already? By God it felt longer writing it... Anyways, thank you and please review. **


	3. The Daily Routine

**This was very delayed, sorry about that! **

Weeks had passed- four weeks to be exact, and Harry had grown accustomed to his own devised routine. In the mornings he'd wake up to his roommate's shuffling (Tom made quite the ruckus in managing all his books that he constantly had on him), put on his clothes (which were still the dull grey shorts and tee), hurry down to the Hall 2's bathroom that all the children of his section shared to brush his teeth, try his best to manage his hair after Joey makes some remark about it, and then follow Tom to his heart's content.

Tom didn't seem to mind... he thinks- the boy didn't really show any emotion to him, after all. Tom only spoke when answering a question in class, but for some odd reason, Harry found himself sticking to Tom's side. It was just easy and simple that way, yet Harry had some way of knowing it annoyed Tom. He didn't quite frankly care, however, after the rudeness from his first night stay.

There were days though that they would talk- or rather, Tom would speak some random remark that Harry didn't understand, but in some way he did in knowing that it pissed him off. The two were weird like that.

Next was school at eight in which every student stayed in the teaching rooms, learning of their studies from the woman of the orphanage (oddly enough, there was no men on the staff). Harry stayed near the middle rows next to the window (there wasn't much to look at, but he did enjoy the sun light), and Tom was the desk in front of him.

Tom always sat straight and properly, respecting all the teachers... but inside Harry knew he wasn't as fond of the woman as perceived. It was like Tom was always wearing some sort of mask. A beautiful, stroked mask of all the colors a paintbrush could brush with their mixes of gold, emerald, and royal blue, and only he could see through it. All the others were fooled by the graphic, blinding design.

They were fools, as Harry began to call them. He picked it up from Tom as he tended to favor the word when faced with things he disliked. Though no one ever heard Tom say it. Only Harry could hear it; that soft, hissing sound that parted the thin lips, covering in disguise as a mere sigh.

After three hours of school, they had a lunch break in which Harry would sit near Tom who laid elegantly against the tree in the yard, book propped in his hands as he read with a frozen expression. Harry sat about three feet away, playing with the blades of grass and pretending they were leaf people conversing.

The tree Tom always picked to rest at was the plump maple tree spot in the middle of the yard that the children would prance around in. It was very pretty as it was the only sign of any sustaining plant in the orphanage, a village of its patch of green spread around it.

None of the children really ate at this time; the food was nasty and either too dry or too soggy. That would be the explanation for all the children's ribs showing visibly when skin was seen.

All the children that is expect Tom. Tom was not only healthy looking, but royal seemingly as well with his perfect charm, clean posture, and over all beauty. Harry would forever envy his perfect hair, too. Tom certainly was different, and to be honest, something nerved Harry about it, making him want to make the perfect icon speak just so he could prove him wrong. Make some sort of that sculptured clean mask mutated as it mocked him so.

I guess you could pin point this to jealousy, but Harry'd never admit to it. He was too prideful for that messy business. No, he'd tell you, it's something more.

At noon the classes started again, going on until four when the children were released and given chores. Since the groups were assigned by age, Harry didn't get to do the labor with Tom very much, and so he kept silent most of that time (not that he really spoke much anyways) and simply went into an autopilot of sweeping, dusting, washing, and scrubbing for all his hours due.

The children of the orphanage didn't really mind him, not having much of a negativity towards him or a liking as he really was just the creepy, small kid with crazy hair that follows Tom, the cool, tall, goodie-two-shoes kid.

Anyways, after chores Harry was given a free time which was usually spent following Tom around. Tom usually read, whether it be on his bed, on the yard, or on the rafts in their room, it was always reading.

After a long spent while the bells would chime out again, signaling dinner. For dinner all the children sat at large, rectangle tables and ate together while giving praise. Harry was silent during most parts of this also, favoring to eat his food quietly and play with his peas.

Next was bathing which was mostly hogged by the older girls. The guys simply past it some nights and only took showers maybe every three to four days, which, of course, the girls claimed to be disgusting even though it was pretty much their fault. The younger residents were the last priority when it came to showering, but when they did bath, it was usually in groups.

Then everyone settled down, Harry'd curl up in bed, holding his sheets in a tight fist as he'd look out the window before becoming too scared something might pop up behind it and turn away to face the dusty, still unpainted wall. The woman of the orphanage would check all the rooms with a candle light to keep late night creepers in their beds before finally they too settled down and everything went quiet.

And that was how the day went.

Today, however, Harry knew something was different- very different. He could tell from the moment his head rose off his pillow that something was going to change today... something... big.

**I should probably, most defiantly, in all likely hood, get way more into this chapter as it is very boring and very stupid and very short, but damn this is all I could cook up at the moment! Next chapter will be much more eventful. As you can see Harry and Tom aren't much of friends yet. Harry just follows him around as he has nothing else to rely on, and Tom just doesn't care, so next chapter there will be some kind of bonding, as you might say; the thing that got them together. **

**I kind of wanted to make it less Mary-sue-ish with that whole blabber on how the moment they met they were just inseparable and Tom already has some sort of great protection and possessiveness over Harry despite that that is so OOC for him, and he has no motive to do so. That seems to be the case in most of these types of stories. Don't get me wrong, there will be our dramas of the possessive Dark lord (Tom's one of those types of lovers, don't you think?) but it will come at a nice pace... I hope. **

**Sorry for the long Author's Note and please review! :D Your support in amazingness! **


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